


Desperate Hunger

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Dark Shadows - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:58:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4207071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1795 Flashback. Victoria Winters is in the past, observing the Collins family, as well as Josette. Even though Josette looks like her, Josette lacks her desperation. The one who has it is Angelique.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Hunger

My name is Victoria Winters. A seance has transported me back to the year 1795. A year when the first Barnabas Collins was still alive, surrounded by his family. The year Josette DuPres came to him to become his bride. Josette DuPres, a woman, whom at first glance, looks exactly like me. 

I can see the differences, though. Josette’s large, dark eyes are merry and sweet, passionate and somehow wise. As if the guardian ghost she will become is waiting, behind those eyes, to be reborn in death. She loves Barnabas, yes, I can tell. It sends a crimson blush throughout her fair skin, making the air around her tingle. It’s not the intense yearning Barnabas’s descendant will one day worship her ghost with. It isn’t the desperate hunger I felt, at times, when I looked upon that descendant, seeing the embodiment of the family and history I craved. 

I’ve seen that hunger in this house. I’ve felt it, like a wave cresting, ready to crash upon this family, particularly Barnabas. It’s not Josette’s, though. No trace of it fills the eyes I thought would be so much like my own. Nor is it in the Barnabas of this time. Indeed, his dark eyes are so innocent and filled with hope, they make me want to weep. What happened to his ancestor, to make his eyes so different? Neither Barnabas nor Josette possess his desperate hunger, or mine. 

Angelique does, though. 

Angelique Bouchard is Josette Du Pres’ maid, handed down to Josette from her aunt, the Countess Natalie Du Pres. Angelique is a delicate, golden haired doll of a maiden, every inch Josette’s equal in beauty, if not in rank or passion. In rank, Angelique is Josette’s inferior. In passion, Angelique is defintely her superior. Perhaps mine as well. She watches Barnabas under lowered eyelashes, which conceal the expression within her blue eyes. She does well to conceal them, for what lurks within them is terrifying. Rage, hunger, possessive madness, mingled with a weird kind of delight. I only catch glimpses of this passion. Angelique has an uncanny sense for when someone is watching her. She doesn’t even look back at me. She just blinks, and the passion as gone. I find myself wondering if I imagined it. However, I keep catching glimpses of it in her eyes, as she watches Barnabas. It’s hopeless, I want to tell her. Somehow I don’t dare. Hopeless passion can be dangerous. I fear what Angelique might do, as she loses hope. Oh, why am I afraid? She’s only a maid servant. She’s not nearly as dangerous as Abigail Collins, who watches me with a hawk’s gaze, waiting for me to make a misstep. Abigail is convinced that I am either mad, or a witch. This is a dangerous time to be either of those things. However, Angelique’s passion is cresting, like the waves against the cliffs below the Old House. When the waves crash against the rocks, you can hear the widows wail. I fear that whenever Angelique’s own passion crests, there will be wailing, here, as well.


End file.
